The Worst Is Yet To Come
by Piper Emerald
Summary: What would happen if The Doctor, Jack, and Martha weren't on The Valiant when The Master sent out The Toclafane? Oneshot. (I own nothing.) Warning: Character death and whump.


They were running. Martha was in the lead, although The Doctor doubted that she knew where she was going. He didn't have time to look, but judging from the sounds of gun shots, Jack was close behind them, firing over his shoulder no doubt.

"Left!" The Doctor shouted, and Martha quickly turned the conner. She stopped and hid behind the wall of a building.

"What are they?" She asked him, for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I don't know," he told her, pulling out his sonic screwdriver, and putting in on a setting that he hoped would work.

By this time Jack had caught up with them. "I know this area," he said. "If we could ditch them for a few minutes-"

"Working on it," The Doctor cut him off.

"What about my family?" Martha asked. Neither of them answered her, and she looked like she wanted to tell them off but was at a loss for words.

"We've got company," Jack muttered after a quick look around the corner.

"Get ready the run," the Doctor instructed the both of them.

When the three Toclafane that had been chasing them rounded to corner, The Doctor held up his screwdriver. Fortunately this worked in slowing them down, unfortunately it did little else. Martha took off, and Jack fired his gun a few times into each of them, before following her. The Doctor was the last to follow his own advice. As he tired to catch up with his companions, one of the lasers that the Toclafane had been firing at them hit him in the shoulder.

It didn't feel like a bullet. No, it felt much worse. It was as if a flame had been inserted into him. He stifled a cry of pain, and scrambled to keep up with Jack and Martha.

"I think we lost them." Martha panted, as the three came stop. Jack motioned for them to hide inside an abandoned shop. The three hid in one of the rooms in the back of the shop. The Doctor sank to his knees, leaning his back against the wall.

"What happened?" Jack asked him, noticing the wound in The Doctor's shoulder.

"I'm fine," The Doctor forced the pain out of his voice.

"We need a plan, don't we?" Martha asked in a grave voice. "What do we do?" She looked at The Doctor for the answer, but he had none. "What do we do?" She asked again, her voice louder this time. The Doctor just sat there, and after a minute Martha gave up. She began pacing, then let out an aggravated scream, kicking at a potted plant that had been innocently sitting to her right. When that incited no reaction from The Doctor and did nothing to calm her frustration, she sank to her knees and began to sob.

None of them were sure how much time passes in silence. It could have been a few minutes or hours, but in the end that didn't matter. Each one of them felt completely helpless.

When there was a crash from the front of the shop, Jack and Martha sprang to their feet, but The Doctor just sat there. He didn't move, until Jack had pulled him to his feet.

Snapping to life, he motioned for the two of them to silently creep to the back of the shop. He followed them, making sure that his footsteps were as soft as possible. His eyes were glued to the font of the place, and when he turned around, his gaze met two worried expressions.

The backdoor of the shop was not only locked but nailed shut, as if is was meant to barricade some unknown enemy. They could hear the Toclafane getting closer, and Martha's expression of fear, suddenly turned to one of of melancholy. She took The Doctor's hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"If you see them, tell my family I love them," she whispered, blinking away a tear. She knew that she was going to die. The Master, no doubt, wanted The Doctor alive, and Jack couldn't die, but there was nothing protecting Martha.

When the Toclafane broke through the locked door that had been the only thing between them and the trio, The Doctor tired to slow them down with his sonic once more. However, this didn't offer them much help. Jack's gun was out of bullets in thirty seconds flat. The bullets didn't seem to do anything to the Toclafane, but Jack didn't want to go down without a fight.

Martha had tried to run of the door that the Toclafane had entered from, ducking under them. She didn't get farther than two steps out the room, before one of the Toclafane stabbed her in the back. Her scream rang in The Doctor's ears, Jack tried to stop him from running, possibly to his death, in a vain attempt to help her, but The Doctor was too quick.

The moment his eyes met Martha's body, he was empaled with the same knife that had killed her. The knife slashed through his shoulder wound, the pain nocking him to the ground. Blood trickled down his neck, as he quickly pulled his gaze away from his torn shoulder.

His eyes rested on Jack who had fallen seconds after he had. He knew that Jack would be back, and Jack tried to send him a sad smile to reinforce that thought, before his eyes closed and life left him. The Doctor tried to stand, although there wasn't anything he could do for to help any of them. The moment he moved, an eruption of pain engulfed his entire body.

Giving up, he rested his head on the hard ground and let his eyes close, knowing that the worse was yet to come.

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**Scarlet Phlame made me to write this, so there ya go Sam!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, please review! **


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